voice.
“I don’t know. A plane, perhaps.”
“You will end up waiting for hours. The game could be over by then.”
“Then I’ll rent a car and drive the distance.”
“Unacceptable.”
They stepped outside and he snapped his fingers, sending the attendant rushing to fetch his car.
“I suppose you have a better idea?” she asked.
A darkening scowl crossed his features, giving him that fierce gladiator mien again. At that moment she believed him capable of conquering anything. Her brother. Her. The world.
“Let your brother sink or swim. It is over, bella . You can’t change him and you can’t meet the deadline. Accept it.”
“I won’t stand by and do nothing.”
The tendons in his neck stood out and his dark eyes blazed with anger at her defiance. Not that she cared what he thought.
It was her family who would suffer.
But even if Stefano had any concept of family, he’d not care about the turmoil she suffered. She had to talk sense into her brother and get him help before he was in debt so deeply he’d never get out.
“I will not allow you to do this.”
Gemma gaped at Stefano. Was he serious?
“You can’t stop me.”
She knew that was the wrong thing to say when his eyes darkened to that feral black again. But he held his thoughts and she suspected that was because they were surrounded by people.
But she knew a cauldron of anger boiled within him. Anger at her brother, at her. At his father?
It was the reason why that puzzled her.
Then she recalled what had started this all. He’d mentioned the vast sum Cesare had spent the past year. Money he’d used for his daughter’s care as well as the generous gift he’d insisted she have.
Her nest egg for a better tomorrow though she’d spent it all on the inn. Her nonna had lived long enough in squalor.
Gemma wasn’t about to let her continue to do so, not when she finally had the means to make the necessary repairs. If Cesare hadn’t needed her, she would have returned to Manarolo and taken over the inn herself. It wasn’t as if she’d be usurping her sister-in-law’s duties!
But she couldn’t tell Stefano any of that, for to do so would reveal the secret she’d swore to hold for Cesare. Now seeing how little regard Stefano held for family, she didn’t dare trust him with the truth.
“You can’t meet the deadline for the loan,” he said as he escorted her to his car. “Which means I will own your half of the inn. If you hope to negotiate a means to regain the title, you would be wise to do as I tell you to do.”
Gemma’s heart stuttered, aware that domineering threat wasn’t a mere boast. But was he serious about giving her a chance to regain her half of the inn? “What are you suggesting?”
“We’ll discuss it later.” He motioned for her to get in the car, his expression carefully devoid of emotion again. “You want to go to Monte Carlo tonight, then I will take you.”
“Then neither of us will be back at work in the morning,” she said as she got in the car.
“Work can wait.”
In moments he’d slid behind the wheel and cut into traffic with the expertise of a Formula 1 driver and she realized he was dead serious.
She didn’t relish the idea of racing over the mountains inthe middle of the night with Stefano Marinetti. But she couldn’t waste another second reaching her brother, either.
“How long will it take to drive there?”
“Too long. We are taking my helicopter.”
He couldn’t be serious.
But as he turned onto the main road and sped back toward the shipyard, she knew that Stefano Marinetti wasn’t jesting.
An hour later, Stefano set down the helicopter in the executive heliport at Monte Carlo. Gemma hadn’t said a word since they’d lifted off, even though he’d fitted her with earphones.
But then he hadn’t felt obliged to strike up a conversation, either. For one thing, the night-flight had demanded all his concentration. For another he didn’t trust himself to remain
“I don’t know. A plane, perhaps.”
“You will end up waiting for hours. The game could be over by then.”
“Then I’ll rent a car and drive the distance.”
“Unacceptable.”
They stepped outside and he snapped his fingers, sending the attendant rushing to fetch his car.
“I suppose you have a better idea?” she asked.
A darkening scowl crossed his features, giving him that fierce gladiator mien again. At that moment she believed him capable of conquering anything. Her brother. Her. The world.
“Let your brother sink or swim. It is over, bella . You can’t change him and you can’t meet the deadline. Accept it.”
“I won’t stand by and do nothing.”
The tendons in his neck stood out and his dark eyes blazed with anger at her defiance. Not that she cared what he thought.
It was her family who would suffer.
But even if Stefano had any concept of family, he’d not care about the turmoil she suffered. She had to talk sense into her brother and get him help before he was in debt so deeply he’d never get out.
“I will not allow you to do this.”
Gemma gaped at Stefano. Was he serious?
“You can’t stop me.”
She knew that was the wrong thing to say when his eyes darkened to that feral black again. But he held his thoughts and she suspected that was because they were surrounded by people.
But she knew a cauldron of anger boiled within him. Anger at her brother, at her. At his father?
It was the reason why that puzzled her.
Then she recalled what had started this all. He’d mentioned the vast sum Cesare had spent the past year. Money he’d used for his daughter’s care as well as the generous gift he’d insisted she have.
Her nest egg for a better tomorrow though she’d spent it all on the inn. Her nonna had lived long enough in squalor.
Gemma wasn’t about to let her continue to do so, not when she finally had the means to make the necessary repairs. If Cesare hadn’t needed her, she would have returned to Manarolo and taken over the inn herself. It wasn’t as if she’d be usurping her sister-in-law’s duties!
But she couldn’t tell Stefano any of that, for to do so would reveal the secret she’d swore to hold for Cesare. Now seeing how little regard Stefano held for family, she didn’t dare trust him with the truth.
“You can’t meet the deadline for the loan,” he said as he escorted her to his car. “Which means I will own your half of the inn. If you hope to negotiate a means to regain the title, you would be wise to do as I tell you to do.”
Gemma’s heart stuttered, aware that domineering threat wasn’t a mere boast. But was he serious about giving her a chance to regain her half of the inn? “What are you suggesting?”
“We’ll discuss it later.” He motioned for her to get in the car, his expression carefully devoid of emotion again. “You want to go to Monte Carlo tonight, then I will take you.”
“Then neither of us will be back at work in the morning,” she said as she got in the car.
“Work can wait.”
In moments he’d slid behind the wheel and cut into traffic with the expertise of a Formula 1 driver and she realized he was dead serious.
She didn’t relish the idea of racing over the mountains inthe middle of the night with Stefano Marinetti. But she couldn’t waste another second reaching her brother, either.
“How long will it take to drive there?”
“Too long. We are taking my helicopter.”
He couldn’t be serious.
But as he turned onto the main road and sped back toward the shipyard, she knew that Stefano Marinetti wasn’t jesting.
An hour later, Stefano set down the helicopter in the executive heliport at Monte Carlo. Gemma hadn’t said a word since they’d lifted off, even though he’d fitted her with earphones.
But then he hadn’t felt obliged to strike up a conversation, either. For one thing, the night-flight had demanded all his concentration. For another he didn’t trust himself to remain
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